About eleven o'clock, after a short wait, I guess his face down the hall of that school that I was so familiar.
dates were close to Christmas and the students ran around, hungry for ratings, from one department to another, assaulting teachers, like heathen gods, they had not been conducive, discussing with them the goodness of their examinations and rigid spirit remedial teacher.
What little had changed everything! For a few seconds, turned as an invisible compass of time, I found myself twenty five years ago.
tried, unsuccessfully, to find the time this instrument had heart to reach me, so effectively, in a sentimental wave so powerful that I had blocked instantly.
could almost see me floating above the rest, observing movements, comings and goings. Unable to participate, not wanting to, as the succession prior photographic collection view, however, removes the heart every time he remembers.
Ella, Tina, in the meantime had come to me:
- John! Juan!
- Ah! Hi Tina. "I still semiausente. I came to see if you read what I sent you a few days ago. I have much interest in knowing your opinion. Also I did get to Carlos and I would like to compare your viewpoints.
now facing, I realized that, apparently, the time was not too wroth with her. His lively eyes molasses, with a nervous movement now known, seemed to get everything at once. His unique accent and his voice Granada as rattlesnakes, made I definitely longed install those as far as literature classes, influenced me so much.
She resumed the conversation: "Look
. The truth is I'm pretty antigongorina. - And in saying this I thought the bell was accentuated her throat. For me, it is more efficient, more transparent and comprehensible story when the reader does not have to ... "dug la palabra idónea-, desmenuzar el cerebro tratando de averiguar qué fue lo que quiso decir el escritor.
Debe percibirse una fluidez natural a lo largo del relato, para evitar convertirlo en algo que, más que una suave corriente serpenteante de belleza, sea un río demasiado caudaloso de palabras ostentosas, plagado de remolinos emocionales difíciles de transmitir.
Quiero decirte –prosiguió-, que, de lo que realmente se trata, es de captar inmediatamente la atención del lector; hay que hacerlo sentir en la disposición de aquel que se encuentra al borde de un precipicio. No va a poder huir; está siendo empujado a él por una espada tan afilada como irreal, una línea le separa del vacío.
That sword can not be other than the writer's pen, the line for a phrase, a paragraph. The death has to be sweet and dear, because otherwise you should feel that suffering has lost the enjoyment of something beautiful.
- my God, I thought. I did not expect such an avalanche of criticism suggestions in so few words. The blow had been stronger than expected and he felt that the collapse was imminent. Trying to calm down, as defensive apologetically, after a few seconds I could answer: "Well Tina
. You know. I believe that stupidity is an activity that is practiced in freefall, just commit to that, if no one makes you look your error, the second largest, is being incubated, and so one after another until, at last, you are plunged into a vortex of ignorance of which no one can get, because in the eyes of almost all the nonsense that will be noticeable to you contrary, we seem to be the most exalted expression of your imagination.
But let her talk continued: "I
I wanted to be cautious, and I tried not to be ignorant of two times, ie, be thinking that I'm not. That was one reason, among others already know, that prompted me to seek your support and correction.
As you will understand I would have liked my work I had fun, but, anyway, is a story very intimate, I have lived in a very particular and I have always doubted whether I should write, because he was aware of the difficulty that would entail me getting others could feel as I have done.
For a moment I seemed to sense a certain embarrassment in her eyes, as though he were guilty of discouragement, of course, had provoked in me the words. I'm sure at that moment would not have minded eliminate from your life those seconds immediately prior, during which they had been arguing. I, in the same way, I felt really uncomfortable in the situation. So, taking advantage that she tried to speak again I said "Tell me
. Tell me more and not think that bothered me at all.
Then, softening its tone continued.
"I never wanted to be, and I have not been hard on your writing. My intention was to make you understand that if you overuse of hyperbaton, the metaphor, interspersed with words we say ... unusual, or at least questionable in the context frame and also combine it with a story purely emotional, the result may be quite incomprehensible to most readers.
you get, and no doubt you will succeed, that after the first two pages, who have in their hands are tired of slapping the air to apprehend the track to guide you toward what you're trying to tell. If not captured, the brief will be to him a body of literature which, inevitably, end up in the trash. That's what me perhaps improperly, I tried to ask you watch.
Taking a deep breath of cold air continued
"You know that history itself is interesting, and I feel proud that I may have had on her. However, I think you should face in certain passages in a different perspective, so I've already said.
However I have to tell you something: to write is to be bold, almost reckless and even, sometimes, should not matter what you say a priori what really matters is that you feel identified with what you've done. If that's the case, forget everything we talked about, is a projection of you, your own personality and feel that you should not change, otherwise an exchange fund bastard form, of sensitivity to appearance, which does not always have result in something of higher quality and ever more sincere.
Neither wanted to prolong the conversation. She, perhaps out of courtesy, to avoid further cleaving with his insightful remarks, my battered soul. Me ... why? Carlos was over, how no, in similar terms, blamed the same defects and observed the same frayed narrative. For more similarity with great delicacy, he also had encouraged me in my efforts.
Tina and I said goodbye. As soon as we sincerely wish him well. I take from their hands the few leaves that are picked up my work and, crestfallen, I walked into the cafeteria of school itself.
After a table cleaner than suggestive, sipping coffee, very lonely, very bitter, cheap folder opened the wing containing the few pages of my grief. For the umpteenth time I started reading it ... They said:
Again, that between the hot sultry afternoons July, inadvertently, almost without thinking, like so many others went with him to end my boring wandering idle. The magnitude of the inertia that had caught me pushing my concern for some time. Their presence in our isolation eased many of my fears and there were many happy moments that I lived with him. Now
no sense. It was necessary to break the tie as it had been forged through everlasting ages, compulsory for me without it. It would not be a definitive break. Sure you would find the time, but without that need almost sick with that together we searched for a shared loneliness. He was not
but with whom I had tormented me most, sacrificed and funny at the time. I was obsessed with the slight imperfection. Knowing every inch of her slender plot, dragged my abstract thoughts about watery eyes always made him. It was an automatic movement, meaningless and wanted in unison could not count the times I tried to suppress it, or they could not. Although I always tried to reason why such strange and ravishing attraction never found it. It is true that together we had seen birth and death, rather than hundreds, thousands of hours, but could not find the absurd reason why they acted as ethereal magnetic flow over me.
At first it was not. Although I knew him, was another one for a long time, and it really was not the most perfect of all he had seen. It was as sudden and voluptuous love that stirs the soul and stuns. On the contrary. It was a costly and painful knowledge, arid and pitiless witness of frustrations and failures.
When I tried to express what I felt not heard, nor was my stand when I cried. I owed him nothing, not even daring to think, as if afraid to hurt who certainly can not, which should not be.
"This is mine for me. Perhaps he could help me? ... Of course not. Why, then, was both shelter near him? What reasons compelled me to go over and over again his sinuous and almost imperceptible meandering? ... None.
There I was, however, absorbed, mentally trying to heal their wounds Recent oval, gray and sad, interspersed with other notches deeper into your skin dry. It should heal quickly, before the disease spread their roots beyond the prudent thing and now my question was whether it would be clever enough not to damage their already look old.
In any case it is urgent to hide his obvious illness, invasive vile and fifty year its elongated silhouette. I had heard of others, of those who said she never suffered any deprivation in being until his death, despite being much more long-lived showed through his skin was anything but exquisite nature and natural color.
On line arteries, however, never circulated that same essence that he had done for these, aristocratic, vain, proud of himself. On the contrary, he always was what it could never change their internal status but because her forever marked their becoming proletarian. That
July
burnished sun drenched me with dull red storm, strong and invisible, with extreme tenacity and furious will and a desire bloody, unyielding. As always, we were face to face, five feet away and separated us obliquely angled profile absurd challenged me in mourning.
Her skin seemed more rugged and dying today than usual, and through the signs of leprosy ruthless, old scars could be glimpsed, inevitable and unwanted legacy of the action of willing hands, heal the unabashed actions of years.
tattooed Many times I thought about him, dreaming of living, as a kid was to watch the fluffy cumulus and cirrus aristados, believing strongly that he fleshings were reflections on the nerve always shadows of my own imagination, embodiment small pixies impossible immaterial.
But no, I never want to go over the line. He feared that the light of my pencil sharp slide on such delicate skin could alter its magic, breaking the thread charmer representation. Released
end of the inescapable duty that tied me he was giving birth to the story of our past experiences. Every paragraph, every line, my eyes were facing him again, with that instinctive motion of no interest to me and tired just hearing about it.
So while we looked without seeing, I tried to model ideas reports, restless, emerged as fast as swift to fade. He, not being as available nature, may well have known of them, because every doubt I approached him and, without sharing my frustration, also prevents shared with me. Just
forgotten was the last of the boisterous and scented Mays when jailer together from our window, we saw visitors spend cheering decked patios that sideways, looked at us like insects attracted by the warm white light that always brought us . Their laughter excessive
deepened with wheezing and painful edge in spite of myself, as every evening, from sunset until you turned the key hours of midnight and together they struck twelve recontábamos Far cante flamenco clock square. After much scrutinizing
in my deepest self, seeking the creation of what he longed to express, I was in the same spot. Not enough, then, to understand the confusion in the situation where I was. I always thought I knew with some accuracy what were the output that, in my mental labyrinth, the "Nature" authorized me to use.
also throughout my life I know of some closed doors, of which I was given a key, and could see other more. The externalization of my feelings was never an obstacle for me, the inability to align my experiences and perceptions about someone, about something, my inability to locate them correctly on a checkerboard grid are sensitive as I had just introduced a new limitation, a newly added.
tried to conclude what could be the reason, perhaps more than to understand it really hurtful to alleviate that had suffered stab my pride, seeing me facing similar tessitura.
Almost immediately I thought, calming down unnecessarily, how the temporal proximity prevented a correct angle of approach "is what they call lack of perspective," he said. "Certainly, higher-margin, opacity disappear and then I discovered the cause of the apparent problem. "
But the same pace as the positive development of the speech was followed by his denial, volatilizing its argument.
No, no, that could not be the explanation. After so many years together, waiting, wanting a break planned and agreed, did not satisfy me, I filled up, the idea of \u200b\u200ba distorted by proximity. It could be anyone else. That no. So what ...?
A second attempt, less rational, far flying the tattered paper in attempt to solidify. I thought
- "Really nothing should exist between us, everything is absurd fantasy, amazing child ... is an impossible event to reasonable person. " But there were clear signs that indicated the opposite: my wife felt a thousand times jealous, but their discomfort is influenced by me, all my family suspected that our relationship will be extended more widely than I was trying to imply, anything absurd conclusion, referring to my long absences of their environment of love.
not useful then ... my attempt to escape, the denial of the obvious was not a solution to the aim pursued. There
to take some time to understand the frame of the problem. Like many people, during various stages of life I had built what I imagined as a bubble protective, aseptic and transparent, from where I thought I could see without being damaged, which I thought I could be myself and including expelling it arbitrarily, without any accountability. In the end, it was my little imaginary sphere, impenetrable to the world. Such was my desire that one day I found myself far from the truth with you. You and I isolated in my ball. I had my pearl and fragile walls, had hardened the surface, blow by blow, layer by layer, wound upon wound, and so we were not stolen and the thoughts of others, but fenced in our invisible strength.
So now when I wanted to have a loud voice, to all our covenant relationship, the idiocy was more evident in me to describe my clumsiness prevented the formation of the expression, rewritten concatenating nonsense. That afternoon
definitely going to break my silence, screaming, to anyone who would hear you, my old friend, my silent partner endless failures, my dear "Study Corner", you became for me much more than I could tell. Partner wishes to move far away saw you scribbled notes jumbled collections, books full of theories, theorems, principles and corollaries that either come to understand and, little by little, began long ago tempering make color, like the two walls not less stale to you model.
Finally, having achieved my purpose, had wanted to get away from your influence. It was not pleasant bittersweet taste of the separation, indeed, a true taste of adultery came over me every now and then. I was ungrateful. Arrogant fool.
nothing Between you and me has died, probably will resume our contact later, but now forgive suffered "Corner", the effort has been huge and must breathe more than the glow of the mountain stale cigarette former examiners of yesterday. I know every day I'll seeing to yearn for more, but meanwhile I return not be sad, will try to rejuvenate and if any chance of new battles, if the need would require a broader effort, one more. In the space
commend you for the post of our "magical little bubble": not to open it, do not tell anyone what they should not know, if you feel hopeless or sad, as we often felt, and I have close to mourn with you, without words to our table mate and the rack so vigorously that endure. She, he, too were complicit in our dreams and will understand. The rest, what happened to us while we were isolated and only know it in privacy, is something that should be "two." FIN
The turning of the last piece of paper was a slight breeze, an imperceptible sigh, becoming the ineffable arabesque column of smoke rising from the freshly lit cigarette. Once more I wondered ... I hesitated on the moral permissibility of taking part in the rest of my innermost concerns, my useless thoughts. Also extended the shadow if, having decided it had taken the right way to vocearlo; a thousand other things ....
As Tina told me, I must be brave, but now I realize that I, who believed have reached the end of something, I'm at the beginning of "Nothing."
Juan Rodríguez wallers
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